For anyone who missed it, I posted something this morning imagining Jackie Robinson on the “Big Red Machine” Cincinnati Reds of the 1970s. In putting together my piece on Wednesday, I contacted Sports Illustrated writer Joe Posnanski, who I interviewed in September and who wrote a 2009 book on those Reds. Posnanski got back to me this morning with a long, thoughtful email (I assume he was busy yesterday evening with Game 1 of the World Series.)

In its entirety, Posnanski’s email is as follows:

Graham,

Well, it goes without saying by me that Jackie Robinson had the most remarkable individual career in baseball history. No other player — not Ruth, not Williams, not even Larry Doby — faced and overcame like Jackie Robinson.

But, it seems to me you are right — people forget just how good a player Jackie Robinson really was. I’m in the midst of doing a competing list of the “32 most complete players in baseball history” — that is the 32 players who could do EVERYTHING well — and, not to give anything away, Jackie Robinson is one of the few to make both lists.

But one question that has always fascinated me is this one: How much of Jackie Robinson’s greatness came BECAUSE of the conditions he faced. That is to say, Robinson was one of those rare players who thrived on his circumstances, who played with a fury, who almost seemed to need a cause. It’s famously known that baseball was his third best sport in college; it seems unlikely to me that with the Olympics out there and with the NFL in full force that Robinson even would have chosen baseball in 1964 the way Morgan did.

And if he had chosen baseball, I wonder if he would have or even could have been as driven a player. This is an impossible question to answer, but a fascinating question to consider. Robinson was absolutely a player with similar talents to the great Joe Morgan. He hit for average better than Morgan, he walked, he hit for power, he was a legendary base runner (maybe the best of all time) and he was terrific defensively wherever the Dodgers put him.

But don’t underestimate Morgan. He played in a harder hitters era and he played in less of a hitters ballpark. And in his six-year prime with the Reds (1972-77) he hit .301/.429/.495 with a 159 OPS+ — higher over that whole period than Robinson ever managed for a single season. His six year WAR was an almost unbelievable 57.2, which is pretty close to what Robinson did over 10 seasons.

I do think Robinson, had he started in baseball younger, had he played in an era where he did not have to carry that great burden and all that, would have had a chance in some ways to be an even greater player. But in other ways, he would have been a different player too. It’s fun to think about. But as great as people think Joe Morgan was, it seems to me he was probably even better than they think.

Editor’s note: To read Joe Posnanski’s take on this piece, go here.

What he did: Robinson is an all-time hero for breaking baseball’s color barrier in 1947, though I’ve noticed something talking to people about him. I’ve heard it suggested Robinson wouldn’t have made the Hall of Fame without being baseball’s first black player in 83 years. Certainly, he was enshrined with minimal service time, 10 seasons, and dozens of non-inducted players have more hits than Robinson with 1,518. But to say Robinson wasn’t Hall of Fame-caliber seems misguided, if not racist.

First off, I think Robinson did enough as a player to justify enshrinement, from hitting .311 lifetime to compiling 63.2 WAR to having six consecutive seasons with an OPS above .900. Just imagine what Robinson could have done with a full career. If he’d played at any other point since 1947, Robinson’s statistical case for the Hall of Fame would be ironclad. In the right circumstances, he might even still be a first ballot selection.

Era he might have thrived in: With the “Big Red Machine” Cincinnati Reds in the 1970s

Why: I look at Joe Morgan, a first ballot Hall of Fame selection in 1990 and the Reds second baseman during their heyday, and I see what Robinson might have accomplished had segregation not kept him from baseball until age 28. Only Robinson would offer greater power and a competitive streak to rival Pete Rose.

Let’s assume Robinson still attends UCLA out of high school, signs with the Reds following graduation in say, 1964, spends the obligatory year or two in the minors, and arrives in the majors around 1966 at 24 (since this is fantasy, I’m not having Robinson toil his first few years in Houston as Morgan did.) This would give Robinson maybe 17 seasons in the show. I’m guessing he easily surpasses Morgan’s 2,517 hits, maybe even gets close to 3,000; and since Robinson compiled 63.2 WAR in 10 seasons, I think he could also best Morgan’s 103.5 WAR with a full career.

In real life, Robinson quit at 37, though I’m assuming he’d play longer in my scenario. First, near the end of his career when the Big Red Machine would be dismantling, Robinson could join the American League to DH, perhaps with the California Angels near where he grew up in Pasadena. The designated hitter position would be a perfect final job for a player whose all-or-nothing style of play would have taxed him in any era. The advent of free agency in the 1970s would also give Robinson greater incentive to play longer.

In any event, Robinson would play his prime years for a team to rival his own. What the Brooklyn Dodgers were to the late 1940s and 1950s, the Cincinnati Reds were to the 1970s: A star-studded club usually in contention. Robinson would have fit in with greats like Rose, Johnny Bench, George Foster, and Tony Perez, perhaps a better supporting cast than Duke Snider, Pee Wee Reese, Gil Hodges, and Roy Campanella. It’d be a treat to see Rose and Robinson as teammates. If Rose doesn’t break Ray Fosse’s collarbone in the 1970 All Star game, Robinson would. Perhaps they could form a tag team.

The Reds would benefit too, since Robinson’s career slugging percentage of .474 trounces Morgan’s .427. Robinson also averaged nearly 20 more RBI per 162 games. I don’t know how Morgan and Robinson stack up defensively, though it’s worth noting that Morgan has negative defensive WAR for his career.

Some might say the Reds would miss Morgan on the base paths. Morgan stole three times as many bases lifetime as Robinson, but Robinson did his stealing years before it became popular. Consider that in 1949, Robinson’s career-high 37 steals represented 10.2 percent of all stolen bases in the National League, while Morgan’s career-high 67 in 1975 were just 5.7 percent of the NL total. I’m guessing that with the Big Red Machine, Robinson would have some 50-70 steal seasons.

Perhaps all this would be enough to delay the exodus that commenced in Cincinnati not long after the Reds won the 1976 World Series. In a perfect world, Robinson even keeps Morgan out of the ESPN commentator booth.

Any player/Any era is a Thursday feature here that looks at how a player might have done in an era besides his own.

Others in this series: Albert Pujols, Barry Bonds, Bob Caruthers, Dom DiMaggio, Fritz Maisel, George Case, Harmon Killebrew, Home Run Baker, Jimmy Wynn, Johnny Frederick, Josh Hamilton, Ken Griffey Jr., Nate Colbert, Pete Rose, Rickey Henderson, Roberto Clemente, Sam Thompson, Sandy Koufax, Shoeless Joe Jackson, The Meusel Brothers, Ty Cobb